


My Darling, Believe Me (For Me, there is No-One but You)

by Halmaithor



Series: Your Wound, My Sutures [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Drunk Magnus Bane, Feelings, I mean sort of??? He's a lil tipsy and decides it's time to clear up a discrepancy, M/M, Other Characters Are Mentioned, Post-Canon, Pre-Immortality, it's not quite fluff but it's not quite angst??? just emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-13 10:33:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21492892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halmaithor/pseuds/Halmaithor
Summary: In the three-and-a-bit years they’ve been together, Alec can count on one hand the number of times he’s seen Magnus visibly tipsy. But tonight is a special occasion.'Ah, my beautiful Alexander. The brightest star in all my skies, the only angel I’ve ever known to walk the earth.’ He steps forward, looping his arms around Alec’s neck. ‘The love of my life.’Magnus gets a little bit drunk, and thinks it VERY important that Alec knows how special he is.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Series: Your Wound, My Sutures [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1542370
Comments: 27
Kudos: 303





	My Darling, Believe Me (For Me, there is No-One but You)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all! The title of this one is from Aretha Franklin's 'I Say a Little Prayer'.  
Also, I purposefully didn't say which anniversary they're celebrating, so feel free to accept or reject the four-month canon timeline as you see fit, lol.  
Please enjoy!

In the three-and-a-bit years they’ve been together, Alec can count on one hand the number of times he’s seen Magnus visibly tipsy. Warlocks are, apparently, natural heavyweights in that department, and Magnus enjoys alcohol regularly enough that his own tolerance is even higher.

But tonight is a special occasion. They had decided to host a party to celebrate their anniversary, mostly as an excuse to see some of the friends and loved ones they’ve been a little out of touch with ever since the move to Alicante. And after a trying week – some sort of magical disturbance in the Seelie realm had caused a mild knock-on effect on all local magics, and therefore a not-so-mild headache for the local High Warlock – Magnus had waited until all the guests were comfortable, and then swept Dot, Meliorn, Maryse, Isabelle and Maia onto the balcony with him. ‘Alexander,’ he called, ‘would you hold the fort for a while? We’ll be back once we’re all a little less sober.’ Isabelle whooped, and Dot blew Alec a kiss as they all disappeared outside.

The party is over now, the guests either travelling home or retired to the spare bedrooms. Although Alec _has _seen his husband throughout the evening, it’s on the balcony again that he finds him – enjoying the view, or possibly letting the night air cool the alcohol in his blood. Alec suspects it’s a combination of both.

The door swings shut behind him, and Magnus looks around at the quiet _click, _his face lighting up as Alec wanders over to join him. ‘Ah, my beautiful Alexander. The brightest star in all my skies, the only angel I’ve ever known to walk the earth.’ He steps forward, looping his arms around Alec’s neck. ‘The love of my life.’  
Alec rolls his eyes, but he smiles fondly, his hands coming up to rest on Magnus’ hips. ‘Okay, come on. Let’s get some water in you, and then go to bed.’  
But Magnus doesn’t put up the expected protest that he’s _fine, _he doesn’t need any help handling his drink, thank you very much. Nor does he raise an eyebrow suggestively, and remark on Alec’s eagerness to take him to bed.  
Instead, his brow furrows, and he looks… _sad, _Alec realises with concern. ‘You don’t believe me,’ he murmurs.  
Alec stares, confused. ‘What? Of course I believe you. I love you too -’  
‘No, no,’ Magnus says, shaking his head. ‘You know _that_, I know you know that, I tell you every day – but it’s _more _than that. _You,’ _he says, tapping the tip of Alec’s nose for emphasis, ‘are the love of my life.’ He pouts a little, a surprisingly childish expression for someone centuries old. ‘I believe you, when you tell me that. Why won’t you believe me?’

And maybe Alec doesn’t have to handle a tipsy Magnus often, but he knows his husband, and so he knows that platitudes won’t get them anywhere. Instead, he gives a gentle smile. ‘Magnus, we’ve talked about this. Nephilim love once. You’re the only person I’m ever going to feel this way about.’ He moves his hand up to the small of Magnus’ back, rubbing small, reassuring circles. ‘But you’re a warlock_, _Magnus. You’re _immortal. _I don’t expect the same of you, and I promise, it doesn’t change anything.’ It had taken him a while, but he had eventually made his peace with Magnus’ box of memories, and the future it represented. It’s hard, knowing that one day, Magnus will love someone else – but the alternative would be a potential eternity of loneliness, and Alec would hardly wish that on anyone, let alone Magnus. ‘We have now. We have _this_ lifetime,’ he says. ‘I don’t care what happens after that, as long as you’re happy.’

But the frown on Magnus’ face only deepens. ‘No, I… I need you to understand,’ he implores, leaning forwards. ‘You need to _understand. _When you made that deal with my father, when you left me so that he’d return my magic – I didn’t just mourn. I went to Brother Zachariah. I begged him to – to just _take _it all, all the memories of you, because you were everywhere I looked and it _hurt._ More than I could bear.’  
Alec swallows hard. ‘I’m sorry, I-‘  
But Magnus waves a hand impatiently, a lazy, presumably unintentional spark of magic jumping onto the stone railing as he does. ‘No, that’s not – that’s not what I mean, that’s all in the past now. I forgave you a long time ago. The only reason I’m telling you all this _now_ is because I need you to _know. _You need to know what this, what _you _mean to me.’ His hands are bracing either side of Alec’s neck now, grip just light enough that it isn’t uncomfortable, but strong enough that Magnus can ensure he keeps Alec’s gaze. ‘In all my years,’ he says quietly, ‘nothing – no other loss, no other heartbreak – has made me that desperate. I’ve been tempted, of course, but I’ve never actually gotten that far, never actually _asked _to have the memories taken. But it’s like – it’s like you still see yourself as the norm. Like the latest in a long line of loves, easy to forget. I assure you, Alexander; _nothing _could be further from the truth.’

Alec’s jaw works as he tries to find the words to respond, to refute. ‘That – I don’t – ‘ He shakes his head; there’s a part of him that wants this desperately, wants to cling to Magnus’ words like lifesaving validation, but he knows that isn’t fair. He can’t ask this of Magnus, can’t ask to _be_ this, not when Magnus might have hundreds of years ahead of him once Alec’s gone.  
And so he shakes his head in denial, and Magnus sighs. ‘Alexander,’ he says softly, his hands dropping to Alec’s shoulders. ‘Please. Please, believe me on this. You’re different to anyone I’ve ever met. No-one else has called my cat eyes _beautiful, _or so wholly accepted my greatest failures. No-one has ever wanted to change the world for me.’ He smiles a little. ‘In over seven-hundred and fifty years, you’re the only person I’ve ever married – because you’re the only person I’ve ever truly _wanted _to marry.’

A stray tear slips through Alec’s otherwise iron control, and Magnus cups his face with one hand, wiping the tiny drop away with his thumb. ‘You know my past, Alec. I’ve always been honest about it. I have loved before – I have loved passionately, and I have loved deeply.’ He takes a slightly shaking breath; but his gaze is fierce, certain, even as the alcohol hazes his focus. ‘But I have _never _loved like this.’  
He kisses Alec, and it’s warm, rum-sharp and honey-sweet. It settles like a blanket over Alec’s whirling thoughts, and he doesn’t want it to end.

When they eventually break apart, Alec wordlessly leads Magnus to their bedroom, keeping one arm around his husband’s waist. A casual observer might not see the necessity, as Magnus still seems so clear-headed – but Alec knows better, knows how the intoxication hits Magnus’ co-ordination faster than his eloquence. He feels a gentle amusement remembering the last time Magnus indulged in drink; how he insisted he was fine in beautiful four- and five-syllable words, even as he clipped every doorway and piece of furniture in his effort to walk the short, straight path to the kitchen.  
Magnus is humming now, a tune that slips between major and minor in a way Alec faintly recognises, but not enough to name it. He barely seems to notice as Alec undresses him, coaxes him to drink a small glass of water. He settles under the covers with a heavy, contented sigh, his eyes falling shut – and Alec is just about to turn away, when he hears him mumbling.

‘Please believe me.’

Alec’s throat works for a moment, and then he bends down again, pressing a kiss to Magnus’ temple. ‘I believe you, Magnus. I believe you.’  
He doesn’t know whether it’s a miracle or a tragedy, but he’s telling the truth.

***

Three days later, Alec finishes his work for the day, and doesn’t go home. Instead, he takes the elevator down to the lowest basement level, stepping out into the bright, soft lighting of Alicante’s largest and most closely guarded library. Magnus will be out late, having portalled over to Greenland to help resolve a leadership issue within the Warlock Council there, so Alec knows he has at least a few hours to kill and he plans to make the most of them. He walks with a sense of purpose, as if determination alone will make what he’s searching for easier to find.

There’s a strange sort of hum to the dark wooden bookshelf he approaches; an aura that whispers of the knowledge stored in these tomes, these ancient histories of almost-forgotten magic. It’s residual power from a time long passed, a time when the divide between the Divine and the Infernal was at its greatest – but also a time when the differences between those magics were so few as to be almost imperceptible.

Alec gathers the three oldest-looking books, the ones whose leather covers are worn hard and smooth and whose pages are aged yellow and sweet. He settles himself on the nearest armchair, and remembers what he said to Magnus in Edom, what seems like a lifetime ago now. _I’m never leaving you again. _

He opens the first book, and starts looking for a way to keep that promise.

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you who watched The West Wing, Magnus inviting that lot out onto the balcony /definitely/ has the same energy as Dr Bartlet at her birthday party, haha. ('Claudia Jean? [...] Let's get drunk.')
> 
> Please let me know what you thought!
> 
> Find me on tumblr:  
silver-latin-and-salt.tumblr.com


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